


You Knock Me Out

by grump_ass



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander is just Alexander, Autistic Character, Eliza is a second mom but still the best, Gen, I can already bet you will be able to guess who he is, John 'I thought I told you I have a daughter' Laurens, Philip is trans, frances is a gem, use protection kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7226188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grump_ass/pseuds/grump_ass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then there was that time that John thought he told his partners about his illegitimate daughter that he had with his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Knock Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry that Philip doesn't have a better name, please don't fight me. Oh, and I'm also sorry this is late; guess who has two thumbs and was travelling on Wednesday and kept slacking off on Thursday?

Unbeknownst to Alexander and Eliza, John had a young daughter.

 

It wasn’t like he’d necessarily hidden her from them; in fact, they found out about her because John was talking about a school project she had completed, under the assumption that they knew he had a six year old daughter. When the couple expressed their surprise at the revelation, John was confused.

 

“I thought I told you that?” He said, seemingly in awe that they hadn’t known.

 

“No,” Alexander had squeaked, “No, you did not.”

 

“You mentioned an old girlfriend,” When John cringed she corrected herself, “I mean, friend. But we didn’t know that anything really came from that.”

 

“No, she got pregnant.” He frowned, eyes furrowing in confusion. “I could have sworn I told you all this.”

 

“Well, you didn’t,” Eliza sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. She didn’t doubt that John genuinely thought he had told them about Frances; she just couldn’t fathom how he could forget.

 

“I’m sorry, I really thought I did.”

 

Alexander sat besides him, leaning against him and taking his hand.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

Eliza smiled in spite of herself at the two. She joined them at the table.

 

“Do you talk to Frances often?”

 

“Once a week. Usually while I’m driving home, I’ll just remember to call her mom so I can talk to her.”

 

“Where does she live?”

 

“In London, with her mother.”

 

“You should have her stay over sometime. It would be nice to meet her.”

 

Alex made a noise of agreement. “That would be nice.”

 

John hesitated before managing a quiet, “Yeah. It would be, wouldn’t it.”

 

When Eliza smiled at him, he continued, “Yeah. I’ll ask her mom if they’re visiting America soon. Maybe she can stay with us.”

 

When John came to bed that night, he revealed that he had called Martha that night about Frances visiting.

 

“What did she say?”

 

“That Frances is on school break and she can stay for a week soon. Martha has a business trip that she can’t bring her on anyway.”

 

“When is her business trip,” Eliza asked as Alexander walked in. The smaller man crawled in bed besides John, winding his arms around the man’s waist.

 

“On the sixth of July, for five days. She can drop her off the day before she leaves, and then pick her up the day after.” John looked to Alexander, as if to ask him if that was alright.

 

“That sounds fine,” Alex said, “Maybe she can stay in Philippa’s room. I’m sure they’ll get along okay.”

 

“I think that would be a great idea,” Eliza piped up. John shut his eyes.

 

“Okay. I’ll call Martha in the morning then. And tell her that she can send down,” he yawned, before mumbling, “Frances.”

 

At that, John rolled over, curling into Eliza’s side and shutting his eyes. Eliza smiled down at him and turned off the light on her side before lying down better, watching Alex hold onto John and fall asleep against him.

* * *

 

Frances Manning had a head full of dark brown curls and wide eyes. Her splatter of freckles were nearly identical to Philippa and Angelica’s, varying in size across her cheeks and nose and forehead. When Martha dropped her daughter’s duffel bag, Eliza could hear several books clunking against each other inside.

 

It took John a minute to get Frances’ attention, but when he did and Frances recognized him, she smiled, palming her curls out of her face.

 

Martha Manning was tall; taller than John, even. When Frances finished listening to John’s soft greeting, she pulled the man into a tight hug.

 

“What’s up, squirt?”

 

“Hey, Martha,” John said into her shoulder, muffled by her body, “Same old, same old.”

 

Martha pushed him back with a smile and ruffled his hair.

 

“It’s good to see you, guy. Thanks for watching Frances.”

 

“It’s nothing, I wanted to see her,” His smile dropped for a moment. He looked over at Frances, who was absorbed in her mother’s phone. His voice dropped to a whisper, “Is she even going to be comfortable talking to me? I’ve never even met her, like, face to face. When I video message her she sometimes won’t even talk to me.”

 

“John, you know how she is. If you try talking to her while she is doing literally anything that she likes, you will lose. Hard. Sometimes to a picture book about the founding fathers of America.”

 

She looked pointedly at Frances, who was still staring at the screen. She occasionally moved to push her hair out of her eyes, but was otherwise uninvolved in their conversation.

 

"John, we don’t even live in America. I literally lost to another country.”

 

At that, Martha went to Frances to say goodbye. While her daughter seemed reasonably upset that Martha was leaving, she waved goodbye easily, even grabbing John’s shirt hem while she watched Martha drive away. She scrubbed at her eyes a little, and Eliza took that time to swoop in.

 

“Frances, can I show you Philippa’s room? That’s where you’re gonna stay.”

 

Frances nodded, adjusting her hold on the stuffed toy she had been holding in the crook of her arm so that she could grab the banister on the staircase and follow Eliza.

 

At the top of the stairs, Eliza realized that Alex was struggling to carry Frances’ stuffed bag.

 

“Jeez, Frances, you carrying bricks in this thing?”

 

When she said nothing, Alex continued struggling, a look of regret in his eyes. Eliza smiled.

 

“Books, Alex,” John piped up from behind them, “She’s carrying books.”

 

Eliza looked to Frances for confirmation. “Do you like books, Frances?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You’ll like Philippa’s room. She has a bookcase in her room. I’m sure she’ll let you read from it.”

 

Frances grinned.

 

When Eliza opened the door, Philippa was still in the process of cleaning her room. She turned when she heard them come in. She grinned and dusted her hands off on her pants before scrambling over. Frances looked around her at the crammed bookshelf with awe.

 

When Frances didn’t answer Phillipa’s greeting, the child frowned and looked at Eliza.

 

“Mama, she isn’t talking to me.”  


“Wait a moment. You may need to get her attention, but she’ll say hi. I think she’s just excited to see your books.”

 

Philippa perked up at that. She turned back to Frances.

 

After getting her attention, Philippa chirped, “Did you want to see my books?”

 

Frances nodded, and Philippa led her over to the book case. While the children looked through the shelves, Alex placed Frances’ bag on the cot they had prepared for her. John came in, rolling his sleeves up and smiling at his daughters.

 

“Frances.”

 

She didn’t notice at first. Luckily, Philippa did, and she helped get Frances’ attention.

 

“Would you like to see Angie, Frances?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She walked over to John, who hesitantly offered his hand to her. She took it with ease, talking rapidly about a YouTube video she had watched on her way from the airport. Eliza smiled after them, and took Alex’s hand and led him downstairs to start dinner.

* * *

 

Frances ended up being impossible to put in bed. She didn’t like sleeping alone, and would rather either read a book or play on John’s tablet than sleep. Eventually, Eliza managed to wrangle the small child and place her between the wall and Philippa, before sitting on the edge with a book. Philippa tucked her head into Eliza’s neck, waiting for her to start reading. Frances watched them for a second before worrying the ears of her still species-less soft toy, eyebrows knitting in some undecipherable emotion. Eliza noticed, but kept reading the story. When she finished, she tucked the two into the same bed, Philippa had chirped that she didn’t mind sleeping with Frances, and pressed a kiss to both of their foreheads before turning off the light and leaving the door a crack open.

 

She went downstairs. Alexander and John were in the office, which was evident from the warm yellow light shining through the glass door panels, and Eliza had a book she wanted to read. Curling up on the couch, she delved in, not noticing when, twenty minutes later, Frances was in the living room, knees knocking and bottom lip popped out.

 

Eliza started when she noticed her. “Frances. I thought you were in bed.”

 

“I don’t want to sleep.”

 

“Sweetheart, you have to. The other kids are asleep right now.”

 

Frances just held herself, looking at her toes and biting her lip.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Frances said nothing, instead shuffling her feet.

 

“Do you miss your mom?”

 

Frances nodded at that.

 

“Yeah,” she managed, voice cracking. She started towards Eliza, who put her book on the side table before scooping up the teary eyed girl.

 

“You’re gonna see her in a few days. You get to play with Philippa and Angie until then. Your dad wants to take you girls to the zoo tomorrow.”

 

“I want my mom,” she replied. Eliza’s heart ached for her. She held her close and rubbed her shoulder.

 

“I know, baby.”

 

“Philippa gets to have her mom,” Frances managed, although the look in her eye indicated that the child knew that this was a weak argument.

 

“Sometimes I have to go on trips too, and Philippa doesn’t get to have me for a few days either.”

 

Frances sniffled.

 

“You have me and your dad, and Alex too.”

 

“But you aren’t mom.”

 

“I know.”

 

Frances hesitated, eyes darting as if she were thinking up a solution to a math problem.

 

“But… Philippa has two dads.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And one mom.”

 

“That would be me.”

 

“And my dad is also their dad.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“So, that means you could be my other mom, right?”

 

Eliza smiled in spite of herself.

 

“Yes, I can. If you want me to be.”

 

Frances nodded her head yes.

 

“Well then, Frances, I guess I’m your other mom.”

 

It seemed to make the girl feel better, and Eliza wiped one of her tear tracks away as John entered. His face fell when he saw the visibly slightly upset Frances.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Someone’s just a little homesick,” Eliza reassured him. When Frances realized her father was in the room, she scrambled out of Eliza’s lap and hurried over to him. The man’s face lit back up, and Eliza wondered if John thought that Frances preferred Eliza and intentionally went straight to her when she wanted comfort.

 

“I miss my first mom.”

 

“First mom?”

 

“Eliza’s now my second mom. She said she could,”

 

Eliza just offered John a soft smile. “You heard her. I’m second mom now.”

  
“Yeah,” John said later, as he turned his back to the table light on Alexander’s side of the bed, “But you’re the best woman I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr at grump-ass


End file.
